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"No!" The word was wrenched from my throat. I punched the ground in frustration, my vision suddenly blurred with tears. Damn it, they couldn't leave. They couldn't ...
They weren't.
The plane was descending, not leaving. I scrambled to my feet and ran down the hill toward it.
The plane taxied to a halt and the small rear door opened. A red-haired man scrambled out and ran toward me. That fleeting image of the boy who'd chased me rose again, and something inside me leapt for joy. But as my gaze fell on his face, my steps slowed. That face wasn't the face I remembered. Wasn't the face I was expecting.
For a start, it was a whole lot younger.
He didn't seem to notice my sudden hesitation, just reached me and swept me into a hug that was fierce and strong.
"Jesus, Hanna," he said, his voice hoarse. "I thought you were dead."
Hanna. I rolled the name around internally, but for some reason, it didn't sit right. "Obviously, I'm not."
He laughed - a rich warm sound - and stepped back, holding me at arm's length. His bright gray eyes - so familiar, so alien - searched mine. "You look like shit."
"Not surprising, given that's how I feel." I stepped back, away from his touch. "Who the hell are you?"
Surprise rippled across his features. "What do you mean, who the hell am I? Who do you think I am?"
"If I knew that, I wouldn't be asking the question." I crossed my arms and stared at him. He was a little taller than me, and broader in the shoulders. His face was rough-hewn but oddly handsome, and his scent said he was a wolf. From the red pack, if his longish hair was anything to go by.
Part of me felt like I should have known him, but the other part, the instinctive part, said he was a stranger.
"Hanna, you know who I am." He reached for my hand, but I avoided his touch. Surprise ran through his eyes. Surprise and concern. "You really don't, do you?"
I didn't bother answering. Just waited.
"For fuck's sake, what's happened to you?" He scrubbed a hand across his face. "I'm Evin. Your brother."
My brother.
No, I thought, staring at him. He wasn't my brother. Not the brother I wanted, not the brother I was expecting.
God, this was all so damn confusing.
"How do I know you're telling the truth?"
Frustration and hurt rippled through his expression. If he was acting, then he was damn good.
Why would I think he was acting?
I didn't know. I just didn't know.
It was becoming somewhat of a theme for me.
"I can't prove it here, obviously. I didn't bother collecting our life history when I came looking for you." But he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, flipping it open to show me his license. His name was indeed Evin. Evin London. He flipped it closed before I could catch the address, and said, "Happy?"
No, I thought. But simply said, "So, you knew I was out here?"
It came out almost as an accusation, and he raised his eyebrows. "I didn't know for certain. But when we found your car - "
"My car?" I couldn't remember a car. No surprise there, either.
"Yeah. By the look of it, you'd hit a kangaroo hard enough to roll the car. It's a total bloody mess. I had to hire another one."
But I didn't hit a roo, I'd hit a truck. Or rather, it had hit me.
